Her Las Vegas Wedding

by Andrea Bolter

  They’d be reuniting in four hours to tape a segment of the cooking special. Two hundred and forty minutes until she would be back together with him. She painstakingly set her phone to alert her every half hour so that the time she had to wait to see him would be broken down into manageable stretches of time.

  What?

  Had she gone crazy? They got lost in the moment and had sex last night. It had no long-term meaning. They were still only business partners, not open to becoming involved with anyone, and last night was not going to change a thing.

  Nevermind that her emotions after the fire at Feed U had led her to tell him more about what she’d bottled up inside than she’d ever told anyone. And nevermind that they had shared a lovemaking so poignant he had reached down into her and grabbed hold of her very being. Nevermind that in his arms she started to have new insights into something beyond arranged marriages and workaholic companionship.

  Reality gnawed. Those were all silly daydreams. She knew all too well not to confuse them with reality.

  But what if?

  Audrey dressed for the appointment she had before the taping, a visit with a former Girard employee who was now a wedding coordinator at The Venetian. After kisses on both cheeks, Grace showed Audrey the wedding chapel at the stylish hotel. Grace lifted a slender finger up to her lips to let Audrey know that they should be quiet because a ceremony was taking place.

  The bride was a fairy princess in a short-sleeved gown with a sweetheart neckline and a ballroom skirt that must have been constructed with yards upon yards of tulle to create its shape. Her dark skin glowed while her short curly hair was enhanced by a pearly headband attached to her veil. The slim groom stood tall in his traditional tuxedo, the bow tie and cummerbund a sky blue that matched his three groomsmen and the dresses of the three bridesmaids who stood in their designated places. A small group of guests filled the front pews.

  Audrey couldn’t hear what the officiant was saying to the couple in a muffled voice meant only for them, nor did she need to. The classic scene was profound and pastoral. She blinked repeatedly as a way of keeping tears from spilling down her face.

  The way the bride and groom gazed at each other, she doubted they heard a word that was said, either. To each, there was nothing in the room but the other. Immeasurable happiness, pure love and total certainty emanated from both of them. Audrey mused on what plans they may have made and what they were looking forward to in their lives. Hopefully nothing but death would take them from each other and maybe not even that.

  Audrey had been completely sure that nothing like that was ever in her future. That would involve trust, and she surely wasn’t going to fall for that one again. If you couldn’t trust your mother, your own flesh and blood, you surely couldn’t count on someone who fundamentally came to you as a stranger. Love could only turn to disappointment and setback.

  But when she was with Shane, anything seemed possible. Really, it had been building all along. From watching him cook with the little kids at Feed U to his friendship with Josefina to his warm memories of his own grandmother. With his insistence on perfection in his work. From his willingness to show her his vulnerable side in admitting that he hadn’t loved his wife. And from the sunset kisses that were more than just physical attraction. Kissing him was an act of two spirits meeting. And what passed between them in his bed carried stories for all the ages.

  Here she was in a predicament she was hardly expecting. Reg had fallen for someone else and her safety net had been pulled out from beneath her. Someone with lesser moral standards might have gone through with the arranged marriage and continued to see his true love at the same time. But Reg was a fair enough man not to allow any deception and had come forward straight away. Reg hadn’t foreseen this, and Audrey did wish him well.

  After that change of track, she’d returned all of her focus to her work. Which, bizarrely, entailed being at Shane’s side much of the time. And now, for the good of all, not the least of whom was Shane himself, it seemed that he had been able to reclaim his magic.

  Little could Audrey have known that along the way she’d find some of her own.

  Shane was adamant that he’d never be in another relationship. Audrey herself had been decided, too. She still clutched a hurt that would never stop bleeding.

  So why was it that now she wanted more than anything in the world to wear a white dress and hear Shane say words like for better or for worse and as long as we both shall live? Words that caused a couple to stare at one another like the pair she watched right now in the chapel. In each other’s eyes, and in the promises they spoke, the past could be healed and the future was limitless. Yes, there would be disappointments and mistakes and tears, but they would weather the lows and embrace the highs. Together.

  She wanted that with Shane.

  More than anything she’d ever wanted in this world.

  What was he feeling after last night? Had the floodgates been opened for him, too? He was cooking again. More important still, he was conceiving again, tapping into that divinity that worked through him to create. Had he crossed over? Were they ready for each other?

  Grace whispered to snap her out of her turmoil, “Audrey!”

  She took in the panorama of the chapel and returned to earth. “Sorry, lost in thought.”

  Graced smiled. “What’s his name?”

  Later in Grace’s office over cappuccinos they discussed event planning in Vegas. From there, Audrey returned to Hotel Girard and popped into her dad’s office.

  “‘Yummy chef Shane Murphy was spotted on the Strip again last night with delicious hotelier Audrey Girard and a couple of other friends,’” Daniel read from his phone. “‘While they may have been hooting and hollering at the blackjack table, it looked like these two were ready to place a bet on each other.’”

  “Dad, you wouldn’t believe what happened last night after that,” she exclaimed. And proceeded to tell him all about the fire. And nothing at all about the fireworks.

  * * *

  “Hi.” Audrey offered Shane a flirty smile when he came up to the swanky rooftop pool for the TV taping.

  She bit her lower lip in order not to faint at the sight of him in the outfit she had worked through with the stylist. He’d wear his cook’s coat for a later shoot in the restaurant and she was even considering having him in a tuxedo while he talked about food during a cocktail party segment. She had the feeling Shane would look good wearing anything. Last night, he looked mighty good wearing nothing. But for the rooftop it was white jeans, white button-down shirt, tan shoes and belt, and his own aviator sunglasses. Casual elegance that was pure crazy, in a great way, with his wild long curls and nicely groomed beard stubble.

  Audrey’s spine vibrated as her brain replayed that stubble awakening every part of her it touched last night. Those scratchy hairs demanded her full attention. And received it without a fight.

  “Hi,” he clipped in a tight voice and looked away. No doubt he was dreading this taping. At the height of his stardom a few years ago, he was on talk shows presenting cooking demonstrations left and right, so he knew how it was done. Maybe the process had probably become unfamiliar to him now.

  Or perhaps he was tired today. They surely hadn’t used his bed for much sleeping.

  What sleeping they did do may have been as profound to her as the lovemaking. It had been years since she’d shared a bed with anything but a pillow.

  Busy career gal, husbandless and childless, gives her all to the family legacy.

  Nothing wrong with that. It was what she’d thought she’d wanted.

  Now, suddenly, she coveted more. She wanted the whole shebang. To lie every night in a big bed with Shane’s long arms around her. To yawn during sleepy-time chitchat about their days, the successes, the failures. And she wanted to stand beside him as together they showered little Girard-Murphys with all the love she had to give,
which lately had grown to infinitely more than she thought she had. She wanted to work hard, play hard, love hard.

  Everything her dad told her she might feel some day was right. Because of Shane. She’d never have opened up to anyone like she did with him. Maybe Josefina had been right when she said that tragedy would bind them together. Could it be what would set them free, as well?

  The TV crew had created a small set for Shane to cook from on the bridge between the swimming pools. Everything was in its place. Just as Audrey had visualized it. On the chic rooftop pool area of Hotel Girard with the Las Vegas Strip visible in the background, this opening segment of the TV special would create instant appeal for the property and its location. It was the Vegas fantasy come true. Stylish fun in the sun, great food and drink, gaming and entertainment at every turn.

  “This is going to look fabulous on camera,” she said as she ushered Shane to his spot at the makeshift kitchen. “Everything okay?”

  “Are we ready?” Phil, the director, called over.

  “Just dandy,” Shane snapped at Audrey, taking her back a little. She knew he’d rather be almost anywhere else but he could be a bit more pleasant. Wasn’t the memory of last night enough to put him in a good mood?

  “Let’s try a take, Shane,” Phil instructed. Audrey moved to the side of the bridge to be out of the shot. “Places, please. And we go in five, four, three, two, one, cue Shane.”

  Shane turned on his electric smile. “Shane Murphy here on the rooftop of the Hotel Girard Las Vegas, site of my newest Shane’s Table restaurant...” He continued to read from the teleprompter and kept on his camera face for a couple of minutes before asking for a break.

  “All good, Shane?” Phil asked. “You look great.”

  “Delightful.” Shane shot the answer at Audrey in a voice that suggested he was anything but.

  Don’t take it personally, she coached herself.

  “I’m sorry we’re taking up your time,” Audrey said to him by way of apology because he seemed so uncomfortable. Although, obviously, all of this was meant to benefit both of their interests. This morning he had said that he was anxious to try out a couple of recipe ideas so, she reasoned, maybe he was impatient because he would rather be in his kitchen. Where his heart was. In his think tank. His kingdom. Ultimately, the place where he felt at home.

  If he didn’t want to be shooting the show right now, she wished with all of her might that they weren’t. But they had a job to do.

  “Picking up where we left off,” Phil called, “in three, two, one.”

  Shane flipped on his dazzle switch again. “We’re going to do a refreshing first course for a poolside gathering. Watermelon gazpacho. Gazpacho refers to a cold, raw soup and there are hundreds of different preparations. It’s classic to use a tomato base, and we’re going to put a Mediterranean spin on it with watermelon and a finish of feta cheese. You’ll be surprised how great the pairing of the acid in the tomato plays against the supersweet melon.”

  Audrey watched Shane do his thing as he began explaining the ingredients and method. The way he managed to be authoritative but warm and friendly at the same time filled her with admiration. Were this formidable and complex man to be hers, she’d treasure every facet of him because they added up to who he was. She’d have to learn to back off when he wanted to be left alone. Not to read into it a rejection of her. Not everyone was her mother.

  “Gazpacho is thought to have originated in Andalusia,” Shane continued, the absolute professional. “Some recipes pulverize a piece of bread and blend that in to create a thickness that is hard to achieve in an uncooked soup. It was probably the ancient Romans who brought that concept over to Spain.”

  Shane completed the gazpacho, showing his would-be audience a variety of attractive serving suggestions. He poured the soup into small clear glasses, which he arranged on a wooden tray. In heavy blue margarita glasses with stems, the mixture resembled a refreshing cocktail. And ladled into small porcelain bowls with long slices of green bell peppers as a garnish, the gazpacho looked more traditional. Concluding, he said to the camera, “We’ll see you over at the restaurant where we’re doing tacos on the patio.”

  “And...cut.” Phil ended the session.

  Audrey rushed onto the bridge. “Perfect. It couldn’t have gone better.”

  “Yep, it was a good segment.” Shane didn’t look at her but busied himself stacking up some plates.

  Actually, were they to be together, she was going to need some practice weathering his moods. At the moment, she couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to want her near. Was it because of the taping? Something he’d probably rather not have been doing? But both families had agreed this kind of big push was needed to get the hotel and restaurant off to a successful start. He must have known that the segment was flawless and that he’d done his duty.

  When people saw this cooking special on TV, Audrey was sure the seed would be planted in their minds that, when in Vegas, a stop at Shane’s Table at the Hotel Girard would be an experience in modern fine dining they wouldn’t want to miss.

  “How was it—” she decided to test the waters “—being in front of the cameras again? I know it’s been a long time for you.”

  “It was fun. I actually enjoyed it.” Shane answered her yet kept his eyes on the workspace in front of him.

  “Shane?” Audrey couldn’t stand him not looking at her.

  Without a word, he roped one arm around her waist and brought her close. He took hold of her hair with the other hand and kissed her mouth violently. She responded to his force and met his power as best she could.

  After kissing him on the hood of his car and then a thousand ways last night, she knew his kisses. This one was different. It was defiant. It was contemptuous. There was fury in it.

  Despite how much she had been trying to convince herself that Shane was merely out of his element in front of the cameras, she had to admit that what was bothering him had something to do with her.

  * * *

  After a long evening of solitary work in the empty kitchen, Shane amped his music even louder to keep him company while he cleaned up. He was pleased with his progress tonight. The tlayudas would fit well in the antojitos, snacks, section of the cookbook. Wanting to offer a vegetarian option, he hadn’t yet found the perfect substitute for the chewy tasajo beef. Maybe shiitake mushrooms?

  As he dunked some sponges into hot soapy water and began scouring the worktables, the thought he had pushed away for the last few hours fought for its rightful place. The five-foot two-inch intrusion would wait no longer. He’d used the lengthy cooking session to avoid concentrating on one thing. One “she” thing. Audrey.

  That kiss earlier at the rooftop pool had almost done him in, and from it he came running into the kitchen to hide and retreat.

  All of his emotions had built up. At first, he’d tried to keep Audrey at arm’s distance and just get through the taping. He’d said he would do the TV show and he needed to give it all he had. Which he did. But Audrey kept coming closer until he’d snapped and kissed her with a power he didn’t like. Because it was a mixture of love and rage. Fortunately, the crew had been taking a break so no one saw him lose his restraint.

  Darn her. For having those honey-colored eyes. For letting him trace jam down her neck and taste her sweetness mixed with the fruit. For being alive and responsive in his bed.

  For making him abandon all the vows he took after Melina’s death.

  That he was never again going to care about a woman. Definitely not going to feel accountable to her. He’d loused that up in the most crucial way and he couldn’t put someone in that kind of danger again. For their own safety.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. Why did he have a fleeting thrill that it might be Audrey?

  It was Reg.

  “Hey, did you talk to that guy Eli about the executive chef positi
on? I video called him. He might be alright.” Shane and his departing executive chef Lee had made dozens of calls to try to find a replacement. One prospect emerged, a friend of a friend who had the appropriate past experience.

  “We’re going to give him a try. Lee renegotiated his new deal to stay with us for a couple of weeks longer and train him.”

  “Thank goodness. What else?”

  “It was Hammett who was stealing from us.” A barback who had been with them less than a year.

  “Jeez.” Shane crooked the phone between his ear and shoulder so that he could continue his cleanup.

  “We fired him.”

  “Man, you never know about people. How’s it going with Brittany?”

  “Risk and potential,” Shane’s ever-logical brother answered. “What’s new there?”

  Shane wanted to tell Reg something about Audrey. But his throat blocked. He felt excruciating remorse at having made love with her last night. That was a line that was profoundly unfair to cross. He knew she hadn’t been physical with anyone in a long time. Maybe as long as it had been for him, maybe even longer. But they had no business doing that.

  They had been partly spurred on by the fire at Feed U, all the adrenaline from the drama and danger surging through them. But he was wrong to have allowed himself to get swept up by emotion. Something he did far too often around Audrey. Acting without thinking was always a mistake. He could hardly face her today.

  Audrey had been through her own personal wringer with a mother who hadn’t wanted her. Audrey shouldn’t take any kind of chance on him, he was not a safe wager. She’d have better odds at the casino.

  He could only hurt her. He would hurt her. He probably already had.

  “We’re on schedule out here.” Shane could at least report that much to Reg. “I’ll see you soon, bro.”